The Lady, or the Tiger: The End
by orphanactress818
Summary: The two possible endings to the short story "The Lady, or the Tiger". Written as an assignment for English.
1. Version 1

The Lady, or the Tiger: The End

There comes a time in every writer's career when he or she learns that what _wants_ to be written isn't necessarily what _should_ be written. In some ways, it is the one thing that makes the job of storyteller difficult. To hold back the words that are desperately waiting to be put onto the page in favor of those that must be documented, if only for the sake of preserving the true theme being represented. Therefore, I am sorry to tell you, no matter how badly I want this story to end in my own way, it cannot. For I cannot change so absolute a character as the princess; she has taken the life breathed into her and run with it. Her choices are not mine to make; I am merely here to take them down and present them to you to do with as you wish. From here onward, this tale belongs to her.

In the sleepless nights since she had learned of her lover's arrest, the princess had gotten the information she desired. Now, it was time to put it to use. But which door? Should she sacrifice the life of the man she loved, if only to save her own heart? Or should she give him away to another and, in doing so, lose her own self in mindless days of jealousy? As she sat beside her father, gnawing furiously on her bottom lip, she realized she still hadn't made her decision. But how could she possibly decide between two halves of herself?

The door opened and a man stepped out. As she watched him walk into the center of the arena, she made her decision. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for his signal. It wouldn't do to show any hint of hesitation. She was the king's daughter, for goodness sake. Someday she would be expected to make decisions for her kingdom and not only for herself. Hesitation was a weakness, and she was most certainly _not_ weak.

And so she looked on calmly, her white, drawn face and compressed lips the only betrayal of her true feelings.

He turned and bowed, body held loosely as if this were an everyday occurrence and not what could possibly be the end of his life. Only his eyes held the franticness usually associated with such an event. As soon as she caught his gaze, she raised her hand...and motioned to the right. She could sense his relieved breath from halfway across the arena.

Turning once more, he marched confidently to the door she had signified. Biting down hard on her lip, she wondered if she had made a mistake. The amount of trust he'd placed in her...but it was too late to change her mind now. What's done is done and she knew there was no going back.

He reached out for the handle of the heavy iron door. It creaked slightly on its hinges. The audience waited with baited breath, leaning forward in their seats, anticipating. Of all the spectators, only the princess closed her eyes. Of all the spectators, only she pretended not to hear his anguished cries as the tiger leapt from the shadows.

Shortly afterward, the crowd dispersed, some mumbling, some shouting, some still sobbing and asking why. The princess sat, unmoving, eyes still closed, until every one of them had left. Whispering to her father that she'd like one more moment to gather her composure, he too left, and she found herself alone with the man she'd loved.

A single tear trickled down her cheek as she finally opened her eyes to look at his bloody, mangled body. Blinking rapidly, she rose. Silently, she flicked away the tear and headed back towards the castle, steps firm and sure.

It was all for the best.


	2. Version 2

The Lady, or the Tiger: The End

As much as it pains me to admit, this story is out of my hands. The princess's character has already determined the fate of her lover, and who am I to change that? Though I will not say whether or not I agree with her choices, I will be more than happy to present to you what those choices are.

She knew what was waiting behind each of those doors. She'd made it her business to know. But which door would she choose? He was relying on her, after all. Even after several weary days and sleepless nights, she still had not chosen. Should she let her lover die? No, the thought gave her shivers down her spine. She could not be so cruel as to let him be torn to shreds before her very eyes! But the thought of losing him, not to death, but another woman was just as horrible. How could she let him live and be married to the one woman she so hated?

Sitting next to her father and fiddling with the lace of her gown, she still didn't know.

Her face, calm and blank as a mask, never betrayed a single frantic thought that was rushing through her head. She watched him walk smoothly into the arena. Though he looked to be at ease, she knew him well enough to sense the underlying hint of fear emanating from his person. This was it. He would be turning to bow to her father soon and she knew if she wanted even a chance at directing him, it would have to be then. But which door would she choose?

Slowly, he spun and dropped gracefully into a bow. His eyes never left her face. Trust shone from them. She could feel tears coming to her eyes and was faintly disgusted with herself. She could not afford to become so emotional over a simple decision. After all, she would have many more to come once she gained control of the kingdom. Taking a deep breath to control her shaking nerves, she lifted her hand and flicked her wrist elegantly...to the right.

His relief was so palpable she could feel it from halfway across the arena where she sat.

Confidently, he stood up straight and marched unhesitantly to the right door. Grasping the handle firmly, he let it swing open gently. Every spectator leaned forward slightly in anticipation, trying to peer around the man and into the door. Every spectator, of course, except the princess. She leaned back slightly in her seat, gaze trained on his face.

As the lady stepped into the bright sunlight, she caught the hint of a smile on his face before he schooled his features into a mask of indifference. Turning away quickly, she jumped to her feet and left the arena to the sound of wedding bells and cheer.

Her tears fell thick and fast as she ran across the uneven flagstones. Tripping on the worn edge of a loose brick, she fell to her knees. The pain of the scrapes helped bring her mind back to reality. Pushing herself up gingerly, she brushed hair and tears away from her face. Smoothing her bloody palms down her skirt, she gathered the remains of her composure and walked on at a slow, sedate pace; trying to tell herself she didn't care. It didn't matter she had just lost the man she loved to the one woman she despised. It didn't matter that he had smiled at _her_ and never even turned back to look at the one who had saved his life. It didn't matter that she could feel her heart breaking into tiny pieces, falling swifter and harder than tears ever would.

It was all for the best.


End file.
